Broken
by Rocksalt Rifle
Summary: Even angels aren't invulnerable. Fullmetal Alchemist/Supernatural mashup.


It was the end of a fairly regular case. Standard issue vengeful spirit out to kill whoever got in his way. Ed was still covered in dirt from the grave they'd dug out, it was smudged across his face and caked in his hair - how Al never wound up as dirty Ed could never figure out. They stood by the grave, marked only by an old tree, and watched the desiccated bones burn.

Ed leaned against his shovel and swiped at the dirt on his forehead, only succeeding in moving it around. The fire was starting to sputter out, running out of fuel to sustain it. The first hints of rose were beginning to peek over the horizon.

The sky was clear, only a few clouds and nothing precluding the gigantic thunderclap. Both Elrics jerked physically as the sound sent a shock wave through the forest. "What the hell-" Ed started, glancing at Al before the two of them made for the Impala.

Out of one of the trees, something came hurtling down at Ed, he wound up and hit it full in the face with the shovel. The direct hit sent the creature flying back into the woods. Ed could hear branches break as it landed hard. "What the FUCK was that?"

The rumble of thunder echoed, fainter now, and the wind abruptly died. Ed stood with his hands choked up on the shovel, but no further attack came.

Al had kept going, and called out from up ahead. "Ed! Get your ass over here!"

Ed slung his shoulder over one shoulder and ran toward where the Impala was parked off the side of a two-lane highway. Al was crouched by the passenger side, and Ed skidded to a halt. Al had pulled the battered figure up and Ed's stomach dropped on instinct. "Castiel?"

The angel opened his eyes, focusing on Ed. "No time," he said, and his voice cracked in pain. He tried to push Al's arms off of him and get to his knees. "Araqiel is coming, you have to go, now-"

Al was, for once, stronger - he held on to Castiel, steadying him. The regular brown trench coat was torn and streaked with blood, presumably Castiel's - or rather, the vessel's. "Cas," Al said.

"Get out of here," Castiel barked at them roughly, wobbling on his feet.

"Oh, hell," Ed groaned, throwing his shovel into the open trunk. He yanked open the rear passenger side door and pointed, and Al got the message. He somehow maneuvered the only half-conscious angel into the back seat. Castiel only fought him minimally, and once Al got him into the car proper he slumped over on the seat, eyes flickering closed.

"We're not losing him, are we?" Ed asked, already starting the car.

Al slammed his door, glancing over his shoulder. "I don't know," he said. "I've never had to deal with a hurt, well, angel; I mean the demons pretty much heal themselves except when we exorcise them, so-"

"Don't go back to your hotel," Castiel murmured without opening his eyes. "They're waiting for you."

"Fuck," Ed slammed both hands against the steering wheel, then did a u-turn on the highway, gunning the engine the other way out of town. "Cas, what the hell is going ON?"

"We were unprepared," Castiel said weakly. "It was a trap."

"/Fuck/," Ed said emphatically, putting the mountain town in their rear view mirror.

*

He didn't dare drive too long. Castiel didn't look too hot and like Al had said, neither of them had any experience in dealing with injured angels - or their vessels. A couple of hours outside of Brownsville they pulled off into a tiny town that consisted of a main street, a gas station, a cheap diner and a cheaper motel.

Al got the room, and Ed waited in the car, keeping an eye on their passenger. Castiel hadn't stirred in the last hour, but his vessel at least seemed to be breathing. Ed had never felt, well, /worried/ about Castiel before, but seeing him slumped over, so vulnerable, was making him twitch in agitation.

It took both Ed and Al to maneuver the unconscious angel from the back of the car and into the room. A kid watched, wide-eyed from down the row as they got Castiel out of the Impala and through the door, placing him gently on the bed.

Ed fetched the duffels from the back of the car, realizing for the first time that he was still covered in grave dirt. Ed tossed the car keys at Al. "My med pack is running low," he said. "We need to stock up - might want to get a change of clothes for Cas, and some lunch," Ed said.

Al shot a look at Castiel. "You sure you don't want me to stick around and help out-?"

"It'll be fine," Ed said. "If something bad happens you know I'll call you. There was a supply store about twenty miles back, before we hit the exit for this podunk town."

After one last, measuring glance - Ed hated when Al stared at him like that, it was like he was reading Ed's soul - Al nodded and left. Ed immediately stripped down and ran the shower, washing the grime off of him and his hair in record time. Clean tee shirt and jeans acquired, he surveyed Castiel.

They had laid him out on his back, and while Ed was in the shower he had rolled himself over on to his stomach. Ed frowned worriedly - his brown trench coat was in shreds, and the back was stained dark with blood. "Man," Ed whistled, touching Castiel's shoulder gently. "I'm going to try to clean you up, okay?"

Castiel shifted slightly, to Ed's surprise. "You should leave me here and run, Araqiel-"

"Yeah, that's not happening," Ed said. "Whoever the fuck this Araqiel is, I'm willing to bet he's not planning on leaving you in one piece when he catches up with you. Man, we just got you broke in, I don't want to have to deal with another dick of an angel who doesn't get it." Ed sat on the side of the bed and frowned at the trench coat. This was going to be messy.

Castiel made some sort of noise, it sounded argumentative but Ed really couldn't make out what he was saying. "Look, you've used up way too much of your angel mojo to just poof off when my back is turned, otherwise you wouldn't still be here. You're running on empty, pal." Ed started to peel the coat off of Castiel's back and the angel's entire body stiffened.

Ed stopped. "Where are you hurt?" Ed asked, sitting back and frowning. When Castiel didn't respond Ed got up and retrieved a decent sized hunting knife from one of the bags and stared to gently cut the coat off of Castiel.

Aside from the stiffening up, Castiel didn't make another noise. Ed peled the blood-soaked coat apart and winced. The suit jacket was in worse condition, almost sopping. The fabric had not been cut or torn in any way, but whatever Araqiel had done to Castiel was brutal. The regularly brown material was black with blood.

"Is your host dead?" Ed asked bluntly, feeling slightly sick.

"He is unaware of what is going on," Castiel said, turning his head so he was no longer facing down into the pillows. "I can heal him, given enough time, he will not know what trauma his body has sustained-"

Ed tugged Castiel's arms out of the sleeves and removed the jacket and shirt, not even bother with the tie and slicing that off instead. Ed winced as he pulled the shirt from the torn flesh - Castiel twitched with every gentle tug but he made no sound.

"Jesus," Ed said. The lower part of his shoulders were hamburger, and the damage extended down half of his back - there were long slices that looked almost like claw marks gouged out of the flesh. His skin was a gooey mass of blood, muscle and flesh. "What the fuck did he DO to you?"

Castiel closed his eyes, pained. "He took my wings."

Ed stopped, staring at Castiel's back in fascinated horror. "He took you...?"

"I couldn't "poof" away if I wanted to," Castiel said, his voice somehow still steady.

"Are you - does that make you-?" Ed couldn't figure out what he was trying to say, so he balled up the destroyed clothing and threw it in the general direction of the trash. "Angels who lose their wings..."

"Fairy tales," Castiel grunted, starting to push himself up. Ed caught his arm and forced him back on his stomach. The angel shot him an annoyed look. "They will grow back, it will just take time. Until then I am a liability to you and you should go with your brother, when he returns."

Ed rolled his eyes, relieved despite himself. "Stay put," he said instead. "They've finally stopped bleeding and you moving around is going to rip something painful open. Just lie on your stomach for a while, we'll let it air out before bandaging."

Obediently, Castiel stayed put, watching Ed with one eye as he moved around, picking up the rest of the scraps of clothing and tossing them in the trash as well, before flicking through the items in his 'med pack' and frowning at the majority of them, before pulling out all his clean bandages.

"Why are you doing this?"

Ed looked over at Castiel, startled. "What?"

"Why are you doing ... this?" Castiel shifted his weight on the bed, moving cautiously and slowly. Before Ed could stand up to stop him he had pushed himself up on his knees. "You are risking yourself to tend to me, which is foolish. Araqiel could find us."

"Araqiel," Ed said, casting around and neatly sidestepping the question. "Who the hell is Araqiel, and why hasn't his name come up before?"

"Araqiel was a grigori, a follower of Azazel," Castiel said, sitting on his knees and looking at the bandages Ed had laid out. "He wants you, Ed, I don't know why. This is why you aren't safe, you have to leave-"

"I can't go anywhere without Al anyway," Ed said realistically. "Lie back down, you look like you're going to fall asleep sitting up. We'll be fine, for a little while until Al gets back."

*

When Al finally returned nearly two hours later, Ed had Castiel's shoulders and back bandaged, and the angel was sprawled out on his stomach, sleeping fitfully. Ed was cocked back in a chair, one eye on the TV and one eye on the door, shotgun on his lap. Al glanced at the door frame, where Ed had carved a few warding sigils. "Trouble?"

"Not yet," Ed nodded as Al put a few bags down on the dresser. "But it's coming." Al's eyes flicked to Castiel. "He's been sleeping for a while," Ed said. "I had to drug him, but he kept trying to leave. He wouldn't settle down and tore his back open again and it started bleeding all over the place." Ed sighed and rubbed his eye with the palm of one hand, clearly worn out. "Fuck babysitting," he said.

Al fished a sandwich he had picked up from the diner and Ed tore into it eagerly. "So what happened?"

"New big bad tore him up," Ed said around mouthfuls of food. "Name's Araqiel, he was apparently buddy-buddy with ol'Yellow Eyes."

"Another yellow eyed demon?" Al didn't sound too happy, and Ed couldn't blame him.

"Yeah, isn't that wonderful," Ed said with a sigh. "Araquiel apparently laid a trap for Cas and his buddies and ended up killing something like four or five angels before they could get away. He tore of Castiel's wings, so now he can't really do the whole "turn around and GONE!" Batman thing like he usually does." Ed glanced at the bed. "Looks like we're stuck with him until they heal ... however long that takes." 


End file.
